“Make sure you’re wearing two layers, icicle” I joked as I felt him lean in. “I did steal some of your clothes for the time being and put all our dirty clothes in the washer,” I said and turned him around as I stick out my arm. “But ‘they fir me’ wouldn’t be the words I would use,” I say as the sleeves were too long, and I had to fold the end of the pants to make sure they fitted. “We can get clothes another time, once my other clothes are clean again, I can wear them for a few more days, so no rush” I reassured him. “Now get your second layer and everything else so we can go” I joked.
@bpalmer
oh don’t worry, I thought I was the one making you wait.
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Archer
I giggle and put a sweat shirt over my long sleeve before I put my winter coat on. “I have smaller clothes in the bottom of my closet that I out grew.” I say as I kiss him and smile. “Thanks for putting the dirty clothes in the washer. Ill state the laundry when we get back home.” I say as I pull a smaller sweatshirt from a bucket in my closet. “Here this should be smaller and fit better Gen.” I hand it too him as I pull my hat and gloves on. “These are all yours if they fit I can’t wear any of them anyway.” I say as I kiss him and head for the door. “You ready?”
@Meekepeek
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I chuckle and take the shirt but put it away. “I will try them on later. I’m already proud I managed to wear these and the long sleeves aren’t bad so I think I’m going to stick to these” I tell him and waited for him to fiinish changing before I nodded. “yes, let’s go” I said and we walked out.
Going down the stairs was painful but doable. It was an actual relief to be down and we started walking outside. I was more on guard this time, but those punks didn’t show up again. Only after we got on the bus, however, was I able to relax a little.
While we were on the bus, I took Archer’s hand. We were ond of the only few in the bus so no one was paying us attention anyway. I later rested my head on his shoulder as I watched the buildings pass by.
@bpalmer
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Archer
I nodded as he told me he would try stuff on later and I didnt mind I just wanted him to know that if they fit he could keep them. I giggled as he talked about being proud to wear my stuff and the sleeves not being too bad. “Thats my sweat shirt from high school. It has my high school name on it.” I say as I giggle a little. “It says Archer on the back I think.”
I walked slowly downstairs a little worried about Gen now that the adrenaline had worn off. He seemed to be managing but the slow pace was definitely helping too. I held his hand as we walked to the bus I knew he was hesitant about it so I didnt let it last long.
I smiled when we got on the bus and he took my hand. I was glad here he felt comfortable enough for that. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder as he laid his head on my but I made sure to keep ahold of his hand too. I wasn’t letting his hand go any time soon
@Meekepeek
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Present day ~ December 3rd
Gaston was hard to soothe, especially now that his marital situation was not the greatest. So Gaston used his friend’s mishaps to rightfully direct his anger at him. His lips became a straight line, his eyes narrowed, and his nose was restlessly inhaling and exhaling the cold air. Obviously, Gaston was angry. But why? Such questions belonged to the enigma riddles.
Gaston could be upset about anything. Weird gaze cast at him, inappropriate words, or inaccurate hand movement. Sometimes his anger resulted from successive overlapping of unfortunate events. The balloon slowly filled until it burst with a loud bang - Gaston would lose control. Sometimes he revealed where his sudden impulsiveness came from. Sometimes he expected his interlocutor to figure it out themselves. But it wasn’t required to understand why Gaston was upset… what was necessary was an apology. LeFou knew it perfectly well. The first thing he did was mumble those magical words. Gaston frowned, and as they walked in silence, he thought long about what he should do about that fact.
Has the plea been accepted? Could Gaston forgive so quickly? No. Certainly not. If someone offended him, it was remembered forever. Kept in a specific archive and brought to the surface when it could hurt the most. He shouldn’t make an exception for anyone. It would be unacceptable. “LeFou.” He started again, but this time it wasn’t about the books. “Next time… try to stick to your cup.” Now, it was the last time. The second time, Gaston wouldn’t forgive him that soon. No. Certainly not.
People hid in shops or rushed quickly to their apartments. Gaston and LeFou steadily headed for the bookstore - no snowstorm could ever stop them. Although fate gave him clear signs that it would be better if they turned back. Good thing Gaston didn’t believe in such things. He considered himself a pragmatic man - although he did not know for sure what it meant.
His friend followed faithfully alongside him. He accompanied him silently, his unbuttoned jacket flowing in the breeze. A soft sweater, exposed to the ungrateful weather, protruded from underneath it. “LeFou,” Gaston spoke suddenly. Without looking at his friend, he muttered… nicer than usual. “Button up. It is cold.”
Talking about himself was something Gaston adored. He did it every day. Such a self-centered routine to make himself even more aware of his perfection. Women praised him too. They admired his hair and muscular chest. LeFou was undeniably the only man in Gaston’s life who was not ashamed to verbally cherish him. Praise poured out of him like sweet candies from a piniãta. The men were used to it, and no one wondered if it was out of the ordinary for male friendships or not.
“I know… I know it’s a good plan,” but every praise from LeFou caused a sharp sensation to flow through his veins. An electrifying excitement, that was. This time, Gaston blamed it on the cold air. It was probably because of it that he trembled slightly. It couldn’t be his friend’s compliment.
Yes, it must have been because of the snow, which was falling more and more. The blizzard was getting stronger and stronger - a sharp icy hail aimed straight at Gaston’s cheeks. His face grew more ruddy with each stroke. The icy road did not help. They couldn’t go faster… then the possibility of falling would turn into a fact. The man covered himself with his jacket, wrapping his arms around his body. He hid his shaking hands under his armpits.
The frost obviously froze not only Gaston’s fingers but his friend’s brain as well. Did he really not understand what Gaston meant? “LeFou…” he whimpered, looking up. LeFou did not give up despite his friend’s protests. He assured Gaston could tell him anything. The man pulled his hands out from under his armpits. They got warmer already. “I’ve always wanted sons.” Gaston continued evasively, although his friend should know what he was referring to. It was obvious. Bright as the sun. Maybe even more dazzling. Everything about Gaston shone brighter than the largest star in the galaxy. “I mentioned it to her last night. I thought she knew that offsprings were very important to me. Six handsome sons - that would be something." He continued without slowing down, even though the road was getting slippery. “And she said, you wouldn’t believe it… she said there was nothing to rush into. I thought I was going to punch something,” he confessed. “Before, when I had given her some attention, you know what kind of attention, she seemed almost… well, unconvinced.” Gaston snorted. Belle didn’t treat him like a wife should treat her husband. Yet, the unsaid part of the marriage vow said that the wife is supposed to please her husband. It was not mentioned aloud because it was not appropriate to state around the guests. “Anyway, I can’t even explain it rationally. All her excuses are just frustrating. ‘I am too tired, Gaston. I won’t be of any use at that state’.”
He wondered if LeFou agreed with his vision of an ideal reality? Gaston thought about that a lot. He was sure that the world he created was an imagination of the needs and dreams of every human being - such a universal utopia. Everyone would like to have six sons and a beautiful wife. Besides, to live in a grand, extravagant house away from the city’s hustle and bustle. A mansion with a gorgeous garden, two dogs, and a nice car. Who could wish for something else?
LeFou was a mystery to Gaston because he did not seem to pursue this dream. Already in his youth, he was not hanging around potential candidates for a wife. Gaston decided it was his job to find him a perfect bride. Redhead girl seemed to be a good match, but Gaston thought LeFou was unlikely to form a long-term relationship with her. Against all odds, his friend deserved someone more interesting. After all, his wife would, in some mysterious way, represent Gaston himself. She had to maintain a certain standard.
Ever since Gaston started dating Belle, he had come to the strange conclusion that his friend was surprisingly hurt by this. He tried not to wonder why. On the other hand, it was directly related to him and his wife… he had to think about it a bit. LeFou always seemed to be tenser when Gaston talked about how beautiful his future wife was. When the planned wedding finally happened… Gaston realized why that was. He understood when he was standing in front of the altar, and his friend was there, holding the written wedding vows.
He couldn’t believe his astonishing deduction first. There was simply no other reason for the change in his companion’s behavior. LeFou had to… he had to love Belle. There was no other answer. Gaston didn’t blame him. He didn’t even get upset when he came to that conclusion. Belle was the most stunning woman he had ever seen. Anyone would be soft on her.
LeFou was faithful to Gaston. He would never try to have an affair with his friend’s wife. Even if, let’s face it, he didn’t stand a chance with Gaston.
Despite the discovery of this revelation, the man pretended not to know anything. He had no intention of confronting LeFou since that would put him in an unpleasant situation. He preferred to avoid it and wait for his friend to tell him this inconvenient secret himself.
“So, LeFou… now you know why.” Here he fell silent. He felt he had revealed enough. LeFou will have to figure out the rest himself.
@ethereal ~ Marcel LeFou
I am in love with you post! And the song, omg, it made me cry. Mine is… well, you can see for yourself :’)))
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I smiled when I felt Archer’s arm around me. it was warm and even though we were in public, gave me a safe feeling. I could see some people look and whisper but I ignored it. words don’t hurt as much as a broken rib, so who cares if they want to waste their time.
“Archer?” I asked. “We both this city is corrupted, right?” I asked. “Why do we stay here?” I added. I know why I didn’t leave this city, because back when I had nothing, a corrupted city like this, was my only form of entertainment. I would solve or find incidents and then watch the police struggle to find the clues. But for Archer, I didn’t understand why a sweet guy like him would stay here.
@bpalmer
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Archer
I smiled cuddling in a little Gen was warm and despite the layers I was still cold. I didnt care we were in public he wasn’t leaving me unless I wanted him to and I wasn’t leaving him unless he wanted me to. Honestly that was never going to happen so I didnt care who saw I wanted anyone that would try and take him from me to know that they should think twice before they try. Some people whispered and I cuddled in a bit more.
I head Gen say my name and looked at him a little surprised. “Yeah Gen I know the city is corrupt.” I say as I play with his hair. That question was not one that I had readied myself to answer. I took a deep breath. “I stay because this is where I was given everything and had it all taken from me too.” I answered not wanting to go into detail about what I meant. The best and worst times of my life had been here I was tied here at least before him. I had nothing to drive me to leave, drive me to find better.
@Meekepeek
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“Don’t you ever want to leave?” I asked. “I mean, I stayed here because as a bird I was safe and so this city was filled with entertainment, but now that I have you, someone I can actually lose, I don’t know if this place is that good” I explain. “I don’t mind living here, but I just wonder if things would be easier for us if we moved somewhere else” I said. "I don’t know why I’m asking, just curious’ I said
We were driving out of the city and the scenery changed from white and grey streets and tall buildings to a pure white winter wonderland.
@bpalmer
1 Like
LOCATION: HER HOUSE // DECEMBER 2ND
“Well…” he whispered, kissing her neck.
Why had she done that?
Why had she kissed him?
Now, he thinks she likes him.
She didn’t deny that she didn’t, but that was still embarrassing. At least, for her.
But that was the only way to make him shut up.
“Erm…” she turned away from him and slowly moved back.
After a minute or so (which felt like forever to Aphro), he asked her which movie she would like to watch.
She heaved a sigh of relief and answered, “Anything is fine!”
‘It’s not like I’m going to focus on it anyway…’ she thought, subtly rolling her eyes.
@SUNFLOWER.FLOW
// That’s all you’re getting, yes. Motivation gave up and this happened 
But, hey, at least I’ve written 10 sentences!
P.S. I hate myself for this
P.S.S. I’m also bolying you for writing long posts
P.S.S.S. Is PSS with another S a thing or am I just making stuff up? //
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Archer
“I mean I guess.” I take a deep breath I had some stuff to tell him but now wasnt the place. “Tomorrow I want to take you somewhere i have something to show you.” I say as i hold him close and try not to get super emotional though what i was going to show him tomorrow i had never shared with anybody. "I know what you mean Gen I’ve already lost people a care about to this place but that part of the reason I cant just leave it. I took a deep breath and kissed his head. “I know Gen.”
@Meekepeek
2 Likes
Previous day ~ December 2nd
Trying to understand the movie was impossible. Gaston bent over backwards to grasp the tangled plot, but his trials were pointless. He was especially confused during the scene when thousands of Jonh Malkovichs appeared in one room. He thought then that if there were only Gastons in the world, it would be a beautiful world, but when he concluded that then he would not be the special one, he didn’t like the idea that much. He found the movie confusing, drawing Aphro’s attention to the fact that it was awful and they shouldn’t waste time watching it. He turned off the TV and turned his head towards the girl.
“Pour us some wine,” he commanded. He needed alcohol just like air now. He looked at the clock on his phone. The number ‘one’ glowed so brightly from the screen that Gaston had to squint his tired eyes. "Bring the glasses to bed. I have to go lay down,” he stated. He got up and guided his legs towards the hostess’s bedroom. His limbs could barely support his body, but he managed to crawl up and land on the soft sheets. On the floor were his trousers, shirt, and socks rolled up in an unelegant nest.
@elixr ~ Aphrodite Florakis
It’s actually a really great film. One of my favorites! So, don’t listen to Gaston. He is stupid.
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I looked up at Archer when he sounded like this question hit him more than I would even think, I just thought I ask a random question. “Are you okay Arch?” I asked as I looked at him backward. “we can drop the subject if you want” I said as I put my hand on his cheek and smiled at him. “Today we’re only going to have happy thoughts from now on” I added with a grin.
@bpalmer
sorry, writing block is hitting hard lately.
1 Like
Archer
I didn’t mean to let it show how much his question effected me but it must have shown through. That was no surprise I was pretty bad at hiding my emotions. “Ill be ok Gen.” I say as I hold him kind of tight. “Yeah if we could drop the subject for now I would appreciate it.” I say as I cuddle into him. I felt his hand on my cheek and I smiled lightly. “Yeah only happy thoughts Gen I will try to do that.” I say with a little laugh as I keep him close.
@Meekepeek all good I get it
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I nodded and smiled at him. “How about I tell you how I learned to ice skate instead” I suggested as I felt like it was a suitable story for the winter view we looked at, about as long as we were still on the bus, and a lighthearted story about my past. I wanted to let him in about my past, but maybe starting off small and taking it easy will be better.
“When I was little, there was this little pond in the woods behind our house. It was quite hidden so it felt like my special place…well mine and my mom’s since she saw me go there once. In the summer we would feed the ducklings and fish in the bond. During the winter, it was often very cold, but that also meant we could stand on the ice. Mom started a tradition that we would try and keep the ice snow-free so it would stay clean and have no bumps. Then she bought me ice skates and showed me the basics before she would dance around on the ice. I wanted to learn it too so we could dance together, but before I was good enough, she passed away. After that I spend every winter on that pond, skating like she taught me, so I could dance for her” I tell him with a smile. “It was my special moment with mom. My dad, step-sis and step mom didn’t know about it” I added. “Winter always remind me of her” I then said softly while smiling into the distance. I missed her, but I couldn’t do anything but smile while thinking back at her.
@bpalmer
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She wasn’t someone who particularly liked taking money from others, especially when they offered it to her, as she found that oftentimes these offers were underlined with the idea that she would then owe them something in return. “Nothing is for free” was a motto that her mother had drilled in her mind, and for the most part, she had seen it to be proven true. As well, it was just offensive for someone to assume she couldn’t afford something. Like, did she have any money on her? Well, no, but it’s not like he knew that. It is for these reasons that her lips turned down slightly at his offer of lending her money, and she closed his fist around the bill, lightly pushing his hand back to his body. “There’s no need,” she said, shaking her head ever-so-slightly. “We can get it at my store anyways, so neither of us has to pay.” Anastasia gave him a small smile, lifting her shoulders lightly in a shrug. “Save that money for your pets,” she added, her eyes on the birds that pecked at his feet.
Anastasia watched as his hand went to his temple, where she’d hit him with the ball earlier. Her lips pursed slightly, eyes trained on his movements and outward expression as his hand felt the bump. Pausing for a brief moment, Ana then walked the few paces that separated the two of them. “My sister’s a doctor you know,” she said to him, though that statement was only half-true. “She can fix that for you, make it look like I never demonstrated my horrendous football skills.” Her lips quirked upward slightly, a telltale sign of amusement in the crease. “But really, that was totally my fault, so let my sister fix it for you and we’ll be even. Debts paid.”
It wasn’t until he appeared confused by her calling him Kim that she remembered that his name wasn’t actually Kim, and that that was just the name she’d mentally assigned him. “Yeah, Kim. That’s you, I’ve decided.” She flashed him a charming grin, a light peal of laughter raining from her lips. “You took too long to tell me your name so I gave you one. It’s derived from Kind Man, if you must know.” He said his name was Arthur but that might as well have fallen on deaf ears, as she had pretty much declared that he was Kim, regardless of his actual given name. Kim suited him well enough, she thought; it was practically as good—if not better—than his original one, so she couldn’t see him having an issue with her calling him that. “You cool with being called Kim? If you really don’t like it, I won’t call you that but I think it’s a cute nickname.”
“My name?” She hesitated for a second, wondering if she should give him a fake name, but then figured that was pointless since they were going to a store that she co-owned; if he wanted to find out her name, he definitely could search up the store records and find her listed. So she went with the truth for once, a faint smile gracing her lips as her eyes raised to meet his. “It’s Anastasia. Nice to officially meet you.” A light laugh bubbled out of her.
Though she may have appeared to be, Ana wasn’t totally self-absorbed. In her mind, conversation was like a dance; your partner could be not particularly good at it, but if you were a good enough dancer, you could lead them through difficult steps with minimal stumbling—assuming they were willing to put in the effort. Conversing with Kim was like guiding him through a delicate waltz while he remained limp, not contributing any effort to even attempting the steps at all. Ana was good at carrying the conversation, but this wasn’t even in carrying territory anymore; this was her deadlifting the conversation while she ran with it to the finish line.
Even with his minimal—no, non-existent—engagement in the conversation, she could tell it wasn’t because he wasn’t paying attention. Or, at least if he wasn’t paying attention to the words coming out of her mouth, he was definitely paying attention to her. She felt as if he would notice any movement she made, no matter how slight, so she kept her suspiciousness to a minimum, only making very predictable movements that one would expect from her. She didn’t need to give a police officer—nay, a police captain—any reason to suspect her, especially if they would be heading to her store. Despite his evidently limited conversational skills, she kind of liked Kim, as he had a warm air about him that felt comforting to her. Elise would not be happy with her finding a friend in a police officer, but the potential long-term benefits were too good to pass up.
Ana had had a feeling that he might be more inclined to go with her if she mentioned the horrible disappearances that plagued their city, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when he replied in the affirmative to her request. She allowed a relieved smile to spread like butter across her lips, and she nodded tightly at him. “Thank you, really.” She hugged herself, her hands rubbing her arms. “It’s been really difficult to not feel wary, especially with more and more people disappearing, as you said… almost feels like anyone could be the kidnapper these days.” Her voice grew soft, and she looked off into the distance, unfocusing her eyes for a moment. “My sister’s older than me but she can still be taken one day, and gosh, she’s all the family I have left. I can’t lose her I-” Her voice broke and her hands fluttered to her lips, eyes closing as she appeared to take a breath to compose herself. Anastasia turned back to him, a strained smile on her lips. “Anyway. Sorry. Just. Thank you.”
Of course she had noticed that he had a prosthetic—it isn’t something that one could easily hide. However, it was rude to point it out, so she played by social rules and didn’t. When his gaze travelled over her shoulder, she followed it, watching him watch the boys react negatively to his prosthetic. Ana doubted it was a coincidence when Kim’s hand moved to his pocket, the movement signalling to her that he wanted to hide it. She frowned, anger simmering as her eyes flicked to the boys. Anastasia didn’t know Kim well, sure, but she had a low tolerance for people who made others feel less than about something they couldn’t control. Why did he put any worth on the opinions of a group of twelve-year-olds, she didn’t know, but still, a very loud f*ck them was ringing in her mind.
A faint memory emerged, pushing itself to the forefront of her mind. She and her sister were children, Elise still young enough that her heart wasn’t protected by its fortress, and as a result, she was easily being cut down by the words of her peers. She’d been caught kissing a girl who’d then accused Elise of forcing herself on her—which wasn’t true—and the aftermath had not been good for Elise at all. She remembered a particular afternoon when a posse of girls harassed her sister. She remembered the same fire burning beneath her skin, in the way her small fists clenched at her sides, The very same f*ck them reverberating in her mind as she walked over there, fists flying.
In the present, her hand was moving again, once again an irrational motion, but instead of an attack, it was gentle and she was pulling his metal hand out of his pocket, intertwining her fingers with his. “F*ck them,” she said as an explanation, voicing her thoughts. “There’s nothing at all wrong with your hand so don’t let them—or anyone really—make you think differently.” This was perhaps the realest she’d been in their whole encounter, her eyes blazing as she clutched this virtual stranger’s hand. “It’s a hand and it’s nothing to be ashamed of at all. So f*ck them. I’d honestly fight them if I wasn’t pretty sure you’d arrest me for like child abuse or something but, Kim, your hand is awesome and it doesn’t matter what they think. What anyone thinks. Okay?”
She turned away from him, starting to walk ahead again. “Now yes. The store. It’s not too far, from here just down [street name]. Just follow me.”
@sunflower.flow hi Kim 
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The man slowly put his hand in his pocket, feeling the flush of shame flood to his face. A regretful smile seemed to be enough of compensation. “Well, yes, of course.” he stammered out. He stared at the ground, watching the doves she had mentioned. It was easier for them. The little bird’s brain was a remedy for all dilemmas. In fact, he didn’t like ‘his pets’ as much as she thought. He just had to take any inconvenience into account whenever he came here. He needed to accept them, despite everything.
“Fix?” he narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that?” He was assuming what she referred to. ‘A quick fix’ wouldn’t even be possible with the treatment of the best ointment… it must have been connected to magic or something magical. Arthur had no intention of accepting witchcraft. He considered it to be dangerous and unnecessary. Only reserved for those who are lazy and cannot earn all the luxuries with hard work. Magic was attached with something sinister and unknown. Arthur was disgusted by it. Las Levendas, however, was a city where magical figures lived among ordinary people. Like the pigeons cooing at his feet, Arthur had to accept that. He had no other choice. “Really, you don’t have to.” He shook his head.
The girl gave him a new name - she had decided. How funny. Arthur looked at her as if she was crazy (after all, who names newly-met people?). He was lost for words, and his brain seemed to have stopped working. Although, it might have been caused by an earlier ball accident. He nodded his head understandingly, though he understood little of her explanation. Perhaps it was some new youth trend that was not reserved for the mind of a fifty-year-old man. “I guess I prefer my own name after all.” He started, smiling as nicely as he could. They didn’t know each other well enough to make nicknames. “It’s nice that you think I’m kind. I’m just doing my job. Others would have done the same in my place." He shrugged nonchalantly.
He felt the uncertainty surrounding her - it flowed from her unsteady pupils and closed mouth. Arthur frowned. He would identify if she was lying. The man would also know how to find out what her real name was. He did not rush her. He stood motionless, his eyes fixed on every movement of her face. It took her a long moment to introduce herself, The also surprised him with a friendly smile. She didn’t look away, didn’t shake her nose. She was telling the truth. “Nice to meet you, Anastasia.” He nodded, not smiling back at her. “So, Ana, right? And that’s a short for what? Angelic Ally?” he allowed himself to crack a joke. He rarely did it because he never knew what the best time to kid was. Maybe he had misread the signs and the situation now as well? He adjusted his shirt collar nervously, wondering if, if he hit himself with the ball a second time, would he lose his memory.
Arthur felt in his guts that she couldn’t be trusted. As if a soft whisper was telling him that she wasn’t a saint. Intelligent, pretty… could sweep anyone off their feet. Wrap someone around her finger, just like that. Arthur was sure she had manipulated more than one person. In addition, she was doing better in conversation than the others. This girl could convince a man with fear of heights to parachute. She could tell someone that tiptoeing was now fashionable, and it was illegal to wear your hair in a high bun. Arthur had no such skills. Only when he was interrogating someone, but then he was guided by a specific scenario. Arthur followed predefined structures made by better and wiser intellectuals. Here, he had no way of navigating known trails and well-trodden paths. The man had to create a new map without any guidance or help. It was easier to just shut up… and observe because that was what he was well-trained in.
Anastasia made calm, deliberate movements. Calculated to be as least suspicious as possible. She probably wanted to talk him over and distract him from her non-verbal communication. Arthur knew being close to a policeman could be stressful. Usually, it was the innocent ones who sweat the most and switch from foot to foot while Arthur talked to them. Anastasia, on the other hand, was quite conservative. It only made Arthur even more convinced that she was not so innocent. The girl was far from being an angelic ally. But he noticed the natural comfort in her movements as she stood beside him. As if he gave her a sense of security. Assuming she had something to hide, there were tons of benefits to befriending a cop. Too bad Arthur wasn’t the type to make any relationships.
The mysterious aura around her made Arthur seem strangely drawn towards her. He wanted to know who she really was, what she did. It was natural police curiosity. However, in the case of the red-haired woman, it was difficult to read anything from her movements. While definitely questionable, they gave Arthur no specific information. He listened to her voice soften and fly away with the wind that ruffled the hair of both of them. Her eyes fixed on the indescribable distance, searching for answers in the rustling trees. “You do not have to thank me.” He replied calmly. The criminal in question was not kidnapping in broad daylight. So the girl had nothing to fear. Her sudden wave of grief broke Arthur down. Still, his vigilance remained. “The police do everything to ensure the safety of residents. We will not stop working until the perpetrator is caught." He enlightened her with a pre-learned statement. He touched her shoulder uncertainly, squeezing it in a comforting gesture. “Please do not worry.” Anastasia apologized and thanked him, separating each word with a sharp pause. “You don’t have to be sorry. We are all stressed.” He continued in a voice as if he were reading all this from a piece of paper. “Everyone is afraid of losing a loved one. After all, there is no worse… pain in the world.” Only now did his tone show a hint of personal despair. The man bit his lip. He took a deep breath. “We are on guard.”
The girl turned her head towards the laughing boys. Arthur hoped she wasn’t going to pay attention to them. She watched the kids while Arthur used the time to throw the remaining bread crumbs onto the grass and take his candle. Only now did he notice the anger of his interlocutor, which quickly washed the smile off her face. He did not know how to react, so he stood unsurely and tucked his hand into the pocket of his black jacket.
“F^ck them.” Arthur looked up at her in surprise. The jaw dropped slightly, and the eyebrows rose.
He let out a short chuckle “What?” he smiled at her with genuine relief in his brownish eyes. They have lost their chocolate shine long ago. The woman reached for his hand, and Arthur froze in horror. He couldn’t physically feel her touch, yet his heart paused each time she ran a finger across his metal hand. He didn’t know how to overcome the sudden discomfort that had suddenly invaded his stomach, dislocating all his guts. The girl started talking… and she spoke honestly. She really tried to comfort him, and not for her own satisfaction. Even though Arthur did not expect this from her, he was grateful for it. “I… I thank you.” He quickly took his hand from hers. Despite such an aggressive move, the smile on his face was genuine. His wife used to tell him the same thing. “My wife used to tell me the same thing,” he bit his tongue as his thoughts slipped out from his mouth.
He pressed the candle closer to his chest, sighing heavily. His wife was the only one he could talk to. With her, every topic seemed simple, as if Arthur knew all the turns without looking at the GPS first. He didn’t have to worry about whether what he said was adequate or not. The man didn’t have to rethink his opinion many times before allowing it to be heard by others. He could also talk about her because it was one topic he felt comfortable with. Maybe that was why he accidentally mentioned her? Wanting to get back to that safer place? At the same time, every memory of his wife caused him terrible suffering. Oh, such a paradox.
“Are we going then, or will we be standing here?” one of the little boys said contemptuously to the two.
Arthur closed his eyes and shook his head as if it might help clear the shame he felt right now. “Yes, of course. So, please, lead the way, Anastasia.” He turned towards her slowly, following the girl.
@unsungcheerio ~ Anastasia Tremaine
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what is a title anyways it’s lefou ok
Though no one could soothe Gaston like LeFou, that did not mean doing so was an easy task. No one would mistake LeFou for a man with confidence, a man who carried himself with pride. Especially not in his current state-trudging after such a man as Gaston. Compared to Gaston, he was meek, tiny, and shameful. Next to such a burly, muscular, and outspoken individual, LeFou was invisible. He felt invisible with how Gaston was treating him. But even without Gaston, LeFou had never been one with much self esteem. The one thing that gave LeFou a sliver of pride was the ability to soothe Gaston, his words smoothing away the angry wrinkles, pushing his lips into a smile. Gaston was still ignoring him. It seemed he couldn’t do anything right today.
It didn’t seem to be Gaston’s day, and LeFou was not helping. Though forgetting the teacup incident, there were other factors in the equation. Though LeFou had put most of the blame on his shoulders, it seemed the entire world was trying to upset him today. With gazes that did not show the man the appreciation he deserved and strange, taunting gestures. The redheaded waitress who had sloshed some tea on the table. The brunette who had disrespected him, the strange gazes from those in the cafe. It was all a buildup, and LeFou was the cherry on top. Though, he felt more like the entire sundae. He didn’t want to cast any blame on the two women. It didn’t matter where the two were, LeFou was always the one messing up and making Gaston upset. His body closely resembled a deflated balloon, head low, arms limp, swinging slightly at his sides, tight to his body. Was his apology accepted? it was hard to tell…Gaston simply continued to frown-perhaps he hadn’t even noticed. Either way, it did not seem to be enough. LeFou almost wanted to apologize again-this time for speaking.
“LeFou.” The reason Gaston was saying his friend’s name was a mystery. Another scolding? To forgive? He didn’t want to get his hopes up, though his head lifted slightly, brown eyes moving from the blackened snow to his tall, muscular friend. “Next time…try to stick to your cup.” It was a piece of advice-though a bit unnecessary looking at it from the outside. Obviously, LeFou would never make such a mistake again. And luckily, they would never return to the cafe. It would be a lot easier to push what had happened to the back of his mind (along with his other mistakes). Besides, then, he wouldn’t have to think about how he’d embarrassed Gaston in front of everyone everytime he went there. He didn’t know what to say. He only pressed his lips together, nodding. “I will.” He promised quietly, not wanting to say nothing at all. That could be taken as another act of disrespect.
Gaston’s expression was still dim and stormy-his eyes black, his jaw clenched, his motions harsh and full of fury. But there was a …less metaphorical storm in their midst. He could hear the chatters of people, and the slams of doors as people shut themselves in their apartments to protect themselves from the snowstorm. The sky stirred with blackened clouds, the wind seemed to blow the two men backwards, doing everything it could to keep them from the bookstore and Belle’s gift. LeFou struggled even more to keep up. Trudging through the deep snow became twice as hard, he could hardly open his wet eyes. But he didn’t stop for breath. Despite how helpless he looked, it was clear he was doing his best to keep up with-and continue following- his companion. Gaston certainly showed no signs of giving in. In fact, he seemed unaffected. Really, it was almost as if the weather had decided to match the mood. Ironic.
The wind seemed to pass through his woolen sweater, brushing icy tendrils against his chest. His teeth began to chatter-though he did his best to hide this. The sound of teeth chattering could not be heard over the chatters of the townspeople-or the howling of that chilling wind. The flaps of the jacket were tossed about wildly, as if the wind were trying to strip it off of LeFou and leave him even colder. “LeFou.” Gaston was looking at him, saying his name once more. That same hope lit inside LeFou, a tiny match in the darkness. Though uncertainty lurked there as well, threatening to put out the flame with cold, dampened fingers. “Button up. It is cold.” It was muttered, but not in the dark, disappointed tone from earlier. Was it just the wind…or was there a hint of compassion? Immediately, chubby fingers fumbled for the buttons, securing them as well as he can. It was natural for LeFou to follow Gaston’s orders, even if they wouldn’t necessarily benefit him. He felt some sort of magical warmth that wasn’t just from the coat wrapped tightly around him. Warmness in his chest, flushing his cheeks as he looked away bashfully. The red cheeks weren’t just from frost, either. The care Gaston had shown… it made his love feel more intense, it made him feel as if he were reliving a piece of their past. Gaston had always been the one to help him-and though he was quite into himself, he did care for LeFou. At least, this is what LeFou tried to tell himself as he smiled very slightly at Gaston. Any arrogance-not that Gaston was very arrogant- was completely justified.ik that sounds DUMB IDK WHAT IM DOING HELP okay sorry, bye
“I know…I know it’s a good plan.” Gaston agreed not-so-humbly. LeFou nodded multiple times-enthusiastic nods. Though the excitement did not show much through dull brown eyes and a slight pout. He felt nervous to get too excited when Gaston hadn’t even accepted the apology. The sugary white flakes had turned into spiky crystals. LeFou had to keep his head down even more, this was dangerous. With every step, his feet slipped on the ice just a little bit, threatening to slid out from under him and send him falling into the snow. Gaston kept his head high despite the storm, though continuing at the same pace. His hands were tucked into his armpits-LeFou doubted he was not cold. LeFou kept walking-a way to show silent support.
“LeFou…” The third time Gaston said his name. This was whimpered, containing a a shred of vulnerability. Their eyes met-they were vulnerable too. “I’ve always wanted sons.” LeFou knew this-Gaston had talked about it before. Genuinely, he had been surprised he didn’t have sons already, with how important they were to him. This led him to assume perhaps Gaston was not very satisfied marriage-wise. Of course, he would play dumb and NEVER voice this assumption-it would be horribly offensive. Was he happy about the situation? It would be hard to be with the pain in those blue eyes. But it would be crushing when Belle gave Gaston those six handsome sons. Something LeFou could never give his friend-among plenty of other things. Again, reminding him of how she was everything he wasn’t. “I thought she knew that offsprings were very important to me.” LeFou nodded understandingly, listening attentively, but not speaking yet, and trying not to get too lost in his own thoughts Though he did have to focus a bit on keeping up. “And she said, you wouldn’t believe it… she said there was nothing to rush into. I thought I was going to punch something.” LeFou’s wet hands, still clutching his coat, clenched, almost reflecting last night’s emotions. He could almost feel his friend’s anger. He shook his head, almost regretfully. “You know what kind of attention.” LeFou did. And he felt quite jealous in that moment. Though soon, he also pitied Belle a bit. Maybe she was tired. But he brushed that away-who would be too tired when it was…that? With Gaston?
LeFou was sweet and empathetic, and while he had now taken on Gaston’s problems as his own, putting them on his bent back, he could not exactly understand too well. He was used to this. Neither men nor women ever desired him. Not that he had made any advances, but besides today… no one really tried anything with Gaston’s pathetic friend. or maybe he didn’t notice whoops Rejection, disinterest… it was something he experienced in large amounts on the daily. Though Gaston was not used to it. He was used to the admiration of everyone. Men, women, and those who did not fit in either would bend to his will, praise him. Women would flock after him, vying for his attention. So Belle being the only woman besides Esme rip who didn’t seem to do that was frustrating, as she was his wife. “Why wouldn’t she…” LeFou started… “I just can’t comprehend Belle.” He finished, knowing Gaston couldn’t either. “Too tired to be a good wife? Too tired to bear you a handsome firstborn?” He shook his head. He wanted to emphasize first, though he knew his role was the cheer up his friend, lifting him out of his funk. “Things might be a bit off with her, Gaston. It’s not your fault.” He offered a hopeful smile. “After tonight, things will change. The atmosphere of the tavern, the drinks, the chat… and when you get home…” He trailed off. “Things will be different is all I’m saying.” He spoke warmly, despite the cold, screaming wind. He was trying to assure Gaston things would go his way soon. Though to be honest, he was not completely sure. He was glad Gaston was confiding in him, though. He was regaining his best friend, which made him a bit excited.
He felt like it was okay to approach his friend again. The struggle was stepping closer to him, but he edged closer, fingers grasping for the hem of the lobster-red coat. Though, of course, he didn’t clench it right yet. “Gaston…could I…I’m slipping…” He asked. He was in a weak, and vulnerable position, looking up at his friend with watery eyes. If this offended Gaston, it was back down the icy slope- and to square one.
@sunflower.flow
i loved your post so much, gorgeoussss
i wish i had that talent- ugh
anyways word count : 1,697
i hope you enjoy, sorry for the delay!
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Present day ~ December 3rd
LeFou’s behavior was thoroughly satisfying. He followed Gaston politely, trying to keep up with the long strides his friend was taking. He also promised never to embarrass Gaston again as he did today. May it be like that because Gaston wasn’t going to be so understanding the second time. And most importantly, he buttoned himself properly, following Gaston’s instructions. But there was still a distinct blush on his friend’s cheeks. Its redness reflected against the snow, giving the scene the richness it needed. The man tried to hide his flushed features. He was probably ashamed of the fact that even with his jacket buttoned up, he was shivering from the cold. After all, only the frost could color LeFou’s chops with ruby paint. “If you’re still cold, you should invest in a scarf and gloves,” Gaston said, snorting under his breath. After all, it was only a slight snowstorm. Gaston felt a chill run down his spine. After all, he had neither gloves nor even a simple handkerchief to hide his exposed neck. He chattered his teeth, straightened his chest, and, head raised, strode forward as if he were no longer sensitive to the cold.
After much consideration, Gaston decided that LeFou deserved official mercy. “Fine, dear LeFou. I guess I can forgive you. At least for now. It all depends on what tonight will be like." He gave him a warning look. “If it’s a failure… I don’t know if I’ll be that kind.” Of course, there was a ‘book gift’ included as well, but whether or not LeFou was successful in it, both of them wouldn’t be able to find out until during Christmas.
“Why wouldn’t she… I just can’t comprehend Belle.” LeFou stuttered out. Hands clenched on the jacket told Gaston that he wasn’t the only one who was absolutely shocked by the situation. His friend continued. With the skill of an actual advocate, making any arguments that cast Belle in an accusatory light. After all, really… how could one be tired of HIM? The one and only Gaston? Indeed, a person as intelligent as Belle should know that Gaston was the diamond in her drab life.
“I also… don’t understand it, dear friend.” Gaston nodded. “Belle stays in that bookstore of hers all the time. So I have to keep myself entertained and go to those godd*mn cafes,” It was terrifying. Every other girl would flitter around him and would be at his request, ready to fulfill all his whims. Gaston didn’t know what was wrong with Belle that she wasn’t sticking to these truths in life. She was a beauty phenomenon. Among women, of course. After all, Gaston’s appeal was not even matched by Narcissus himself). But maybe she was also a strange biological case.
LeFou simply agreed with him, stating that there might actually be something wrong with Belle.
“The weird thing is, she was acting like a good wife at first.” Gaston shared his thoughts with his friend. “I don’t understand what must have changed in her environment that she became so… well… dry.” Could this be a job in a bookstore? Maybe she found a new girlfriend? But even she couldn’t be worthy of more time than him. “After all, the problem is definitely not on my side. I stayed the same." A cocky smirk appeared on Gaston’s face. “After all… there was, and still is, no need to change me.”
A friend tickled Gaston’s larger-than-life ego. A smile appeared on his face, which was bursting with a refreshing source of pride. It filled Gaston’s whole, satisfying his thirsty soul. Hydrated, he charmed LeFou with his sympathetic gaze. His eyes glistened with a cerulean glow under the sharply falling snow. They looked like two magical sapphires, precious and refined… a treasure you couldn’t take your eyes off of.
LeFou assured Gaston that tonight’s trip to the tavern would change everything. The mere thought made Gaston’s broken heart feel warmer. In his territory, he would be able to indulge in any charismatic gesture and sweep Belle off her feet. Maybe they will even recall those teenage years when they first met, and everything was as it should be. “Oh…” Gaston let out a pleased murmur of excitement. “It will definitely be as you say. It can not be otherwise. Belle won’t be able to resist me." He assured his friend, although it was more directed towards his own mind. Despite the belief that a bit of beer and obscene dancing would make Belle change her mind, a dose of uncertainty filled a tiny part of Gaston’s subconsciousness. What if that only made matters worse? Belle may, after all, find this meeting unnecessary or pretend to be bored just to upset him. What for? Maybe for some sick satisfaction of her own.
However, it was necessary to focus on the positives because only these were found in Gaston’s life. Everything was served to him as if on a golden plate. He won a lottery ticket every time, and luck treated him like the most beloved son. In his mind, he went to their home.
It was night. A dim light illuminated the corridor. Outside the window, one could hear a quiet whistling wind. The moon was leaning out from behind a clumsily drawn curtain. First, they got rid of their shoes, then their jackets and top garments. Their movements were quick, greedy, and the fact that clothes remained unharmed was astonishing. His hand rested gently on her perfectly built figure. It slowly traced through each curve and curl. Their lips were gently breathing against themselves, so close, though so far. Suddenly her hand touched his shoulder. She ran her fingers over his Greek carved muscles. Long wavy hair tickled his naked back as she leaned toward him. The pinkish lips moved closer to his ear and whispered that slow, lethal “Gaston…” It sounded so authentic that Gaston believed she was really here. Her touch, too, felt exceptionally “present”. Almost as if she was right next to him. Wait a minute…
Gaston glanced to the side, distracted from his fantasy. The voice he heard in his dream belonged not to Belle but to his friend. LeFou hesitantly gripped the red sleeve of Gaston’s jacket, and it was his hand that made Gaston feel this pleasant sensation.
“What now?!” he shouted, feeling his face slowly started to burn him. The blush attacked his cheeks almost immediately, and Gaston wished LeFou would think it was from the terrible cold this time. His companion looked at him misty-eyed, nervously explaining that he might slip soon. He needed someone to hold on. In fact, his friend’s legs swayed dangerously on the ice, and it would only take one hesitant step for both of them to collapse in the Snow Queen’s icy maw. Gaston looked around. Everyone hid in warm houses. There weren’t any witnesses… that was the most important thing. Gaston clicked his tongue and let out a loud sigh. “Well, fine.” He muttered. He took his friend’s hand and, on his own, set it on the place of the bend of the arm. He adjusted his friend’s grip with his fingers and tightened the grasp - to make sure it was secured and strong enough. He patted his friend’s frozen hand. He had to be sure LeFou was holding him well. Otherwise, they would end up in the snow anyway, in an even more uncomfortable position. They could not allow this unacceptable situation to happen.
Gaston couldn’t look at his friend without that stupid sense of warmth seeping into his stomach and cheeks. The man looked down at the ground, watching his own footsteps, and explained his behavior as the need to calculate each move. So as not to accidentally lead to an unfortunate slip.
It was best to focus his thoughts on something else. And also bring LeFou back into the position of a faithful friend, on that matter. Fortunately, Gaston never ran out of conversation topics.
“You won’t believe what Aphro confessed to me last night, LeFou,” he began, presumably gaining the attention and curiosity of his interlocutor. “We were sitting on her couch. After a brief dispute, which of course she had caused, she suddenly leaned over to me and touched my thigh or shoulder with her hand. Whatever." Gaston waved his hand. “Well, so, I also bent over, responding to her advances, grabbing her waist tighter.” He said in a passionate voice. He folded his arm, even more, clenching LeFou’s hand to better visualize his story. “She was expecting a kiss. Well, in vain. She was too desperate to deserve it at that time." The man snorted contemptuously. Though he understood why women were so… sympathetic to his approaches, it was in no way demanding. Gaston needed a challenge. A woman who would play hard to get. He was a hunter, after all. “At last, I slowly closed the gap between us. My breath lightly touched her plump mouth, and my hand ran slowly through the locks of black hair." He whispered. He took a moment to pause, only to unexpectedly shout, “BUT SHE! She took my hand away. Can you believe it? Well, of course, I started asking why she had done that. Because it was unimaginably stupid, right?” Gaston nodded to himself, not waiting for LeFou to confirm his observations as well. “Of course, Aphro quickly learned that this was indeed a reprehensible mistake. Fortunately, she, unlike Belle, could come to this obvious conclusion. But back to the heart of the matter…,” he grunted to catch his breath for a moment.
He continued his monologue, flooding LeFou with another stream of words. “She tried to explain herself. That the hand slipped by itself, that it was not her. Of course, that was not true. I knew it very well." Gaston sighed. “And she dared to be so suddenly worried about me because, of course, she immediately asked if I was okay. And before that, she didn’t care how much Belle hurt my soul. Instead, she was laughing at my despair." He snorted. “I replied that she didn’t worry about me at all, that she lied, and how could she had rejected me?” Gaston raised his voice, echoing the atmosphere of yesterday night. “Well, and she then… well, well, LeFou, guess what she did then. Well, you will NOT believe it. This is so hilarious.” Gaston laughed wholeheartedly, casting a quick glance at his chubby companion.
@ethereal ~ Marcel LeFou
YOUR POST MADE ME CRY SO MUCH
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Archer
I smiled as I nodded I wanted to hear any childhood story he would tell me. I was especially curious where he had learned to skate even though I am sure he had the same question about me. I cuddled in hoping it was light hearted and sweet I needed a soft story and I think he knew that. I also think he wanted to share his past but didnt know where to start. That is how I felt to, I wanted to share my past with him but didnt know how.
I stayed cuddled close as I listen to his story and smile. I was trying to picture everything as he told the story. I closed my eyes and leaned my head on him as I listened intently with a soft smile placed gently across my lips. As I listened I could tell how important his mom was to him and all the love in his voice but he was sad too. I hugged him gently because of his ribs. I wanted him to know he was loved though. “That is a really sweet story Gen.” I say as I smile and open my eyes. “You are good at telling stories too I felt like I was right there with you as you talked about it.”
@Meekepeek
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LOCATION: HER HOUSE // DECEMBER 2ND
Aphro liked the movie they were watching. It wasn’t bad. If she remembered correctly, it was ‘Being John Mal-someone’. She didn’t bother trying to remember the movie’s name. It was confusing at times, but it didn’t matter. She was just glad that the fighting had stopped (for now). Somewhere in the middle of the movie, Gaston turned the television off and turned to her. “What? Is it not good?” she asked. “And I was still watching that…” she muttered to herself, barely audible. She was afraid of saying it out loud. It was the middle of the night, and she wanted to do anything other than arguing. She had enough fights for a day and was exhausted. But she wouldn’t be surprised if Gaston started again. He was just that kind of person; who misunderstands things a lot, was oblivious, and would begin squabbling about every little thing which was of no importance. Aphro had to be mindful when speaking with him.
Most of their stupid arguments happened when they started conversing with each other. ‘Maybe that’s the problem…’ Aphro thought to herself with furrowed eyebrows. She was right, though! There was absolutely nothing wrong with their relationship. Everything would be perfect if they stopped talking. Yes, that was it! If they stopped speaking with each other, everything would be perfect! No more fights, no more arguments. Just sauna! He would eventually fall in love with her, and they would live happily ever after! Or that’s what she thinks. She is stupid to believe this would work; because it wouldn’t. It would just create more problems between them. But who is going to tell her that? For now, let her live in her little bubble.
“Pour us some wine.” Gaston said. “Huh? What?” she turned to him. “Oh, right, wine!” she said and scrambled to the kitchen. She picked two wine glasses from the glass cabinet and the most expensive wine from the wine cooler. She poured the wine into the glasses and kept the wine bottle back into the cooler. Aphro took the glasses to Gaston, who was now in her bedroom. ‘Who told you to go there, huh?’ she bit her tongue to stop herself from saying that out loud. “Here,” she handed him his glass and smiled, clinking their glasses. “Careful,” she said in a soft voice. “I don’t want wine all over my sheets.” she looked down at the dark red wine in her glass and took a sip. It was good. “Do you like it?” she glanced at him. Soon, she found herself staring at him. She brought her fingers to his face, tracing his striking features, from his sharp nose to his thin, light-pink lips. They were a bit chapped. “You should moisturise your lips…” she said in a whispery voice.
@SUNFLOWER.FLOW // 467 words- so close- //
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